


Bathhouse

by lameafpun



Category: Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi | Spirited Away
Genre: F/M, nure onna!reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 02:38:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11773746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lameafpun/pseuds/lameafpun
Summary: You worked for Yubaba for a lot of reasons. Sure, there was a distinct lack of a dental plan and health insurance in general but it was the people that mattered. Specifically, the people you got to interact with by being employed by Yubaba.





	Bathhouse

“Hello, Haku.” 

Your serpentine bottom half slid over the bathhouse’s waxed wood floor soundlessly. Shouts and annoyed exclamations rang out - some servant had probably tripped over the long tail, which drew out a disgruntled, sharp exhale out as you coiled tiredly. 

Haku stood stiffly, a beacon of calm in the chaos of the bathhouse, hands clasped behind his back. His dark grey-green eyes trailed over your form, catching on the shawl wrapped around your shoulders. It was a faded (color) and looked impossibly, irresistibly soft but he knew from experience that whoever dared to let their arm wander close would find themselves an appendage short. 

There had been a few incidences in earlier years and now there were a number of educational signs hung up around the bathhouse, but they never did manage to get the stain out of the concrete floor of the entrance hall. . .

“(name)…I was under the impression that Yubaba’s favorite collector would be out for another month.” His voice is cool, unruffled, but the thin undercurrent of legitimate warmth - so subtle and damn near imperceptible to anyone who hadn't known the spirit for as long as you had - evoked a small, albeit genuine, smile. In that second, when the flirtatious persona falls away and the sincerity shines through, your form seems altogether smaller - like the unassuming spirit in front of him really isn't able to cleave a human in two with raw strength and give a spirit a run for their money. Haku's eyes trace over the slumped shoulders, takes in the new rumples on the shawl, and the nicks and minor gashes littered across your tail. 

You shrugged, the scales scattered across your shoulders like freckles glinting with the movement. The river spirit also noticed with a twinge of annoyance (that really doesn't outshine the concern sitting in his stomach like a rock, but he tries to push that down) that your perpetually soaked hair was dripping, practically raining, onto the newly mopped wooden floor. Haku grit his teeth and fought down the urge to knot his fingers into his chin length hair, settling to instead stare stoically. 

“Things went along faster than I expected them to. And I just love this…” You paused, lips pursed thoughtfully, purposefully looking directly into Haku's eyes before grinning slyly. He gazes back unflinchingly, as though the impish, flirtatious glint shining up at him doesn't make his heart seize. “Bathhouse. Best one in the spirit world. Now, I’d like to get a bath.”

With that, you slithered away through the crowd that filled the lobby of the bathhouse, leaving Haku to go and report to Yubaba. He presses his lips into a thin line, staring at the empty space in front of him, and lets his hands fall to his sides. In the depths of his chest, where the feelings and urges he largely ignored sprung from, there was a familiar pulling to follow the earlier occupant of the empty space. As is expected for the right-hand woman of Yubaba, the crowd parted as much as they could and bowed respectfully. You forgo the booth for bath cards, instead heading straight for the baths. Attendants clothed in the strange, pale pink uniforms darted across the floor, barely managing a respectful nod of their head before the demanding growls and orders from the spirits in the baths spurred them into frantic action. 

 

A blue-robed figure came running towards you. Their face was new, you noted.

“One bath token.” They gulped and lifted a finger inquisitively, a helpless noise escaping them at the sight of your already turned back. 

The question died in their throat as a spray of water showered their uniform, serpent-like eyes burning through them. They softened slightly as the attendant wilted, and you sighed resignedly, sharp irritation giving way to fatigue. 

“Kamaji will know what I need. Just send down a blank (color) ticket.” They nodded and took off down the hall, zigzagging between the spirits moving through the hall. You didn't miss the relieved exhale, or the liberated slump of their tensed shoulders as they sped away. 

You continued to glide down the open hallway, the lively noise and herb scented steam slowly fading as the boring beige hallway started to wind and twist. Finally, you neared the familiar inconspicuous hallway Yubaba had oh so kindly cloaked and turned into it, the sight of the sliding door almost making the built up stress melt away entirely. 

The door slid open and shut hurriedly, weary eyes sliding briefly over the multitude of mismatched portraits requested from Yubaba ages ago and the out of place potted bonsai tree that sat on a table in the corner. 

The shawl slipped off and was hung up on its usual spot on the bar next to the door. 

Sighing, you rolled your shoulders and rested a hand on one, trying to massage away the tight muscles. A headache had started to form on emergence from the river next to the bathhouse, the bright lights and signs blinding. 

At the sight of the grand bathhouse, the failure that had faded to a dull ache intensified, digging a hole in your stomach and bringing a bitter taste to your mouth. (Yubaba would not be pleased.)

Failure was not something she tolerated well. The meeting with her would be put off for as long as possible. 

A loud wooden creak and thump echoed in the humid room, dragging you out of progressively depressing thoughts. The wooden water spout fell out of the wall and hung over the bath that rose in the center of the room like a big clay mound. The bath itself was quite large; originally it had been meant for five to ten smaller spirits but when you came to work under the witch she had kindly decided to gift it away. It was the perfect size for you to uncoil on the seat that went around the inside of the bath comfortably. 

You slid onto the seat, eyes fixed on the frothy water pouring steadily into the bath. The light scent of indistinguishable herbs seeped into the room, sticking to the tiled walls and wooden floors until it ballooned and burst, lavender and jasmine filling your nose. 

You leaned your head onto the edge of the bath, raised aching arms into the air, and watched through half-lidded eyes as the water dripped down. Tail swishing lethargically in the water, you slid down the clay wall and submerged yourself fully in the steaming water. 

 

Haku stood in front of the witch, hands clasped behind his back, green-grey eyes staring stonily ahead. 

“(name) has returned.” He announced blandly and Yubaba smirked at him, peering at his stone-like figure over the top of her spectacles. 

“You sound overjoyed.” Yubaba remarked drily, amused, letting her inhumanly large chin rest on one heavily ringed hand,  the other waving seemingly aimlessly in the air next to her. A feathered pen moved through the air, scratching out numbers and figures onto the official-looking paper sitting on her ornate desk. 

Haku didn’t respond and Yubaba sighed good-humoredly. Yet again, he’d refused her offer to sit in one of the chairs she had pulled up to the front of her desk, batting her attempt to be kind away without a thought. It’s not like the chair was disgusting or made out of the flesh of the innocent or anything remotely as macabre. Quite on the contrary - it was a beautiful, deep burgundy that screamed sophistication, and the actual fabric of the chair was the finest velvet Yubaba could afford - that is, the finest velvet. 

Her eyes flicked down to her desk, observing the stack of papers she had to go through, and she massaged her wrinkled face tiredly. Luckily, Boh had already fallen asleep. As much as she loved reading her dear baby to sleep tonight seemed like such a _chore._

“Well, go and send her up.” She waved the young man off, an eyebrow raising when he remained standing in the middle of the room. “Well?”

Haku grit his teeth and raised his chin, still not looking Yubaba in the eyes, opting to look at the golden curtains embroidered with plants behind her desk. 

“She’s been taken to the baths.” He ignored the flush on his face when he said that because he was a river spirit and ancient river spirits don’t get flustered by stupid little _demons_ like nure onna. It would be beneath him. Utterly, completely beneath him (but even as he thought this, a pang of guilt jolts through his chest) 

The witch’s abnormally large, crooked nose twitched as she tried to hold in a chuckle. The red coming to Haku’s porcelain skin certainly didn’t go unnoticed by her. She can’t say she was surprised - this was only substantiating her already strong suspicions. She quickly squashed down the urge to smirk - oh, young people - and waved her hand again, impatiently. 

“And your point is?” She turned nonchalantly to the mound of papers on her desk. “ _Fetch_ her, Haku.”

 

You were scrubbing the scales on your lower stomach to a glossy shine, aiming to at least make them reflective. Yubaba always said that as a spirit that went to the other worlds and her second-in-command, you had to represent her. And that meant being ‘presentable’. It didn’t really matter to a nure onna, but Yubaba’s insistence meant a private bath so. . .win-win.

An almost hesitant knocking on the door interrupted the cleaning. 

The reply was immediate. “Come in!” Another few advantages of being a nure onna: a general lack of modesty, naturally long hair, and reflective, well-placed scales. 

The familiar white kimono and puffy, light blue monpe prompts more than a little surprise. It was Haku - not the usual faceless servant. Not that he'd never come personally to carry out Yubaba's orders, but that had only been once, years ago. That had been entertaining, although worrying. His eyes had been less weary, less jaded, and his face had been entirely red, body halted in the doorway and stuttering out an apology before a proper response could be returned. He'd disappeared and returned when the bath was draining with a robe, courtesy of Yubaba (she'd gotten quite a few laughs out of reports of Haku's embarrassed request and even more out of the sight of his red ears). You leaned over the edge of the bath, staring at the uncomfortable river god who pointedly refused to look in the direction of the bath. 

“Yubaba summons you.” His voice is formal, not outstanding or out of ordinary in the least, but he's standing with a militancy that is almost intimidating but the delicate pink in his cheeks make him seem younger, more a shy boy than anything. 

“Well,” You rose up, water streaming down the now shining scales, and slid gracefully out of the bath. The steam-filled room obscured much, but you didn’t help the well-meaning mist by slithering right up to Haku. He had stiffened uncomfortably as soon as he’d entered the room but now he’d frozen in place, nails digging into his palm, and there was a lump in his throat that he couldn’t manage to choke down. The memory of that first day is coming back to him. 

The shawl was absent and for some reason, looking at the naked shoulders hidden underneath felt so much more intimate than just meeting your eyes, so that’s what Haku did. 

You smiled at him, but it was different from the usual playful, albeit flirtatious curve sent his way. Your lips looked more full and pink through the steam and they were actually really close to his own - or maybe that was another illusion of the mist? They were coming closer, mere inches from him and he watched as they moved, transfixed.

“Wouldn’t want to keep her waiting.”


End file.
